


You spin my head round

by delorita



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-30
Updated: 2011-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-05 11:53:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/406101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delorita/pseuds/delorita





	You spin my head round

Warnings: A bit of hetero sex in the beginning. Hannibal's first person POV  
Notes: Written for this anon-prompt at [](http://ateam-prompts.livejournal.com/profile)[**ateam_prompts**](http://ateam-prompts.livejournal.com/) : “I kind of like to see Hannibal in a slowly falling-apart marriage or long-term relationship with a woman, but he can't work out what's going wrong until he meets Face and it hits him - he's gay. I'd mainly like to see the thought processes, how Hannibal deals with it, but if it ends in H/F that's wonderful too! (I have a cheating squick, so I'd rather he didn't actually sleep with Face until he's single)”

Thanks for betaing go to my lovely [](http://karenjd.livejournal.com/profile)[**karenjd**](http://karenjd.livejournal.com/) again. Thanks sososo much for your encouragement and praise!

  
+++

She’s looking at me disappointed, sad, turning away in our big bed.

Again I wasn’t able to bring her to orgasm, again I failed, couldn’t get it up; for the fifth time in a week.

Me, a soldier…a Ranger! God damnit. It really is embarrassing.

Was it due to the stress during the last weeks, months? But I’ve had stress before…

“Maybe we should see a doctor or a therapist?” she suggests lowly, stroking my hair.

I flinch away at her touch without actually wanting to. She looks at me with a mixture of unbelievable pity and anger.

“No,” I state firmly and get out of bed, pulling on my boxers.

“That is not normal, John,” she sighs frustrated.

I know that. I search for my cigars and light one. I’m getting a bit worried myself. Maybe I’m sick…cancer or something? I swallow at the thought. But then, I did take a pretty bad blow to my nuts and cock the other week while in the pit. Some new young First Lieutenant delivered it to me when I was choking him a bit too hard, and it hurt like a bitch.

Maybe I should go see a doctor? See if the guy’s heel kick damaged anything?

I hear her talking on the phone while I’m in the bathroom, looking clueless into the mirror. Maybe I’m getting old? The hair is fucking damn grey already and those wrinkles around the eyes…

“I’m going to visit Betty!” she calls from the hallway and the door slams shut.

For some reason I don’t feel sorry though. I scratch my chin. Are long term relationships supposed to end like this? That one partner just doesn’t find the other attractive anymore? I mean, she _is very attractive_. Tall, long red hair, green eyes, wonderful curves, breasts that just fit into my hands the right way…I used to get aroused when I thought about her like that. But not anymore, for a few weeks now.

I decide to test a theory. I go to my old trunk in the back of the closet and rummage for some very old magazines. There. Exactly what I was looking for.

I turn on the shower and start to thumb through the high color pages. Shiny images of naked women of all kinds, lounging on beds or beaches in promising positions, with eyes mostly smoldering.

Those photographs used to arouse me every damn fucking time I looked at them before I met her years ago. But now? Just a slight twitch, nothing substantial.

I’ll make an appointment with the damn doc tomorrow.

++

“First Lieutenant Peck at your service as ordered, Major, Sir.”

I look up from my papers.

A vaguely familiar looking guy stands in front of me.

Flawless uniform. Flawless expression. Flawless salute. Flawless…no, not a flawless voice. Something in that voice is… I can’t put my finger on it.

For some reason my stomach starts to churn in this moment. Must have been bad eggs at breakfast or something.

“Lose the salute Lieutenant,” I say, and am instantly shocked at how odd my voice sounds. I clear my throat. “Shut the door and take a seat.” My voice still has an odd edge to it. Must be getting a cold.

The Lieutenant sits down, long legs stretched in front of him. And even though he looks at me with a serious and dutiful expression, I get the feeling he’s stifling a grin.

I’ve never felt nervous when a new recruit was ordered into my unit, but today I do.

Must be the doc’s results. Or rather not. Because it turned out that everything was okay with my testicles. Fuck, where did my thoughts just wander with a new soldier in front of me. I pull myself together and look at him sharply.

He returns the glance, brisk, open. Blue eyes flashing.

And my dick twitches.

What the fuck?

I shake my head slightly, light my cigar and start talking about the assignment, the training, the bullshit I won’t tolerate, the ‘not lying’ strategy, the schedule for how long he’ll be assigned to my small unit.

I get over my nervousness eventually but those eyes never leave me, follow me around when I start to pace the room. He sits very straight, listens attentively. He doesn’t do anything wrong even though he has a bad report.

Time will show.

After half an hour I dismiss him. Peck salutes again, promptly turns and is out of the door.

I fall in my chair all cramped muscles, sweaty skin, half hard on.

What the hell IS that?

+++

We’re due to move out the next day for several weeks in the training camp.

Since my dick showed some life signs during my briefing with the kid (for whatever reason) I decide to seduce my girlfriend and make it up to her. I don’t want her to feel bad when we’re going to be separated for two or three months.

I have it all planned, candle light, red wine, her favourite music, cuddling…

And, again, I can’t get it up.

I want to fall into a black hole and stay there for eternity.

A Major in the US Army, on the way towards becoming Colonel, not able to satisfy his girlfriend…

She shakes her head in utter disbelief, says nothing, turns and goes to sleep.

I sit on the floor smoking, staring, cursing. I want to smash something, hit someone.

Impotent at thirty five. That just can’t be true.

And that thought about hitting someone won’t leave me alone.

There’s someone I need to test. I didn’t pay so much attention when we fought in the pit the other week. He really had hit my groin badly. That surely won’t happen again this time.

I’m glad I took Peck’s file with me since we move out tomorrow.

I call his cell.

My stomach churns.

I press the off button.

I’ve never done something like that; calling one of my recruits to ask them for a sparring match in the middle of the night. No, wait, it’s only twenty hundred hours.

I need a beer first.

I’m a commanding officer. I can order him anywhere anytime, can’t I?

And what’s with the stupid stomach roiling on top of all the shit?

I’m opening the fridge and my cell rings, sprint towards it so she won’t wake.

“Yes,” I manage to bark. Voice my usual self. Good!

“Major Smith?” It’s Peck.

How the hell does he know it’s me? I don’t send my name with my number when I call someone.

I frown, stomach stirring more insistent. Heart starts beating faster.

“What is it, Sir? Do we have to move out earlier?”

That voice. I wonder if he does that on purpose to pull one of his tricks with me. I do not get tricked by recruits, that’s an established fact. He should know that.

“Meet me at the pit in about half an hour. That’s an order.” I draw my hand over my face, sweating. I’m relieved. That sentence came out in just the right tone. Good. I can get a grip on that. No one makes Major John Smith nervous. Especially not a kid with a bad reputation.

“Yes, Sir. I will be there, Sir,” Peck repeats clipped and hangs up.

I doubt my own methods in this moment.

Who am I to order someone to fight me to get over my own frustration?

That’s clearly not how a commander/recruit relationship is supposed to be. But then, I didn’t have the chance to test his fighting skills yet and I’d like to do so before we go out to that camp. At least that’s the excuse that makes me more comfortable with this decision.

Stomach is still churning a bit, though.

++

Peck’s sitting in the middle of the pit, Indian style. Waiting.

My heart skips a beat when I see him sit there so lonely.

I dismiss the thought instantly.

I know from his file that he’s an orphan. But I’m not supposed to become his father, just teach him some lessons and he’ll move on in about six months or so.

The single dim lamp shines on him and he jumps up as soon as he hears me come in. Again that flawless salute.

No uniform. White undershirt. Dog tags. Sweatpants. Bare feet.

_Fuck, he’s beautiful._

I blink. Where the hell did THAT thought come from?

“Lose the salute,” I grumble.

“Good evening, Sir,” he says still standing at attention.

“Evening, Peck,” I respond. I’m all tense and angry and not feeling well. Heart beating too fast, stomach in knots. I can’t get the flu when we’re about to move out tomorrow. I pull myself together. I start to walk around him, explaining what I want from him.

“I need to test your fighting skills, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, Sir,” he says again. Whenever I’m in his field of vision, his eyes are following my every move. He doesn’t dare to turn his head when I walk behind him. But something in his stance tells me that he normally doesn’t follow orders so well. There seems to be something of a rebel in this guy.

I take my shoes off as well. Step closer. Peck looks up. I _really_ look him in the eye for the very first time. The Lieutenant’s gaze doesn’t waver. I see honesty. Respect. Things I hadn’t thought I’d see. I can’t tear my eyes away.

_Earth stops turning._

_Blue. Oh SO blue._

_And my dick’s swelling, my balls tingling._

_I’m sweating like hell now._

_I begin to understand what’s wrong with me…_

“Hit me,” I say. Because I want him to. I need him to. I deserve it. A Major in the army can’t be …g…no, I don’t even want to think the word.

Again I say, “Hit me. That’s an order.”

And he does. But not really. Just half hearted.

“Major?” He starts to dance around me. “Aren’t you going to fight me?” His foot’s hitting my ribs, his fist’s boxing my biceps. His hand goes for my throat…that’s when I snap out of my stupor and decide to fight him back.

I return the blows, start to hit harder. Peck changes techniques. He’s fast, but I’m faster. He’s able to pull out of my grip now and then but I catch him again, try to wrestle him to the ground. But he uses some trick to wind out of my hands, jumping a few steps back. Neither of us is bleeding yet.

And that’s when he grins at me. Wicked. Open. Challenging.

I want to groan.

And I’m hard.

He must see it. I want to fall into that hole again.

But he doesn’t look there. He’s watching my movements.

I’m frozen, and he lunges for my chin.

And hits.

Hard.

The impact makes my head fly backwards but also my thoughts clear again. I concentrate on the fight. It’s fun. He’s really good. I grin back.

Peck needs much more practice though.

I take him down with a few swift strokes and punches. Not too hard, but just right.

He’s panting, catching his breath.

And then I’m down with him. He’s just pulled my feet away from under me.

I’m up instantly and so is he; throwing his full body weight against me. He can’t tackle me down again, I’m holding my ground, bring my elbow up. Peck jumps backwards, assessing my motions.

I feel my head spin. He moves like a tiger. Predatory. Even at his young age.

We stare each other, circling, waiting for the next move. His tad-too-long hair is falling into his eyes.

_Gorgeous._

And I jump him, throw him to the ground, wrestle his arms up over his head, pin his legs down with my weight on him.

He laughs, and struggles. I hold on tight.

He’s panting and I am, too.

Peck’s almost able to free himself by kicking and he tries to turn us.

I shake my head determinedly and start to laugh too.

I definitely feel better now. It was good that I called him up to vent my frustrations.

That’s when he bucks up at me and I feel something unfamiliar brush my balls.

I gasp and loosen my grip for a split second and the junior Lieutenant actually is able to turn us around. Me on my back, struggling. He’s strong but I won’t be in that position for long.

I launch for the counter attack when he suddenly grinds his groin into me. He’s aroused.

I gasp, “FUCK!” and I’m on my feet instantly; throw him a few steps across the ground with my sudden upwards move, turn my back on him and try to will my own raging hard on away.

My lungs try to draw breath.

He’s silent.

Too silent.

I turn my head to see if I did him any damage by my violent reaction.

He’s laying on the ground, leaning on one elbow, chest heaving, staring at me.

Serious.

I turn back around, too embarrassed to face him.

Peck’s clearing his throat.

I grab my shoes and start to walk away from him.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, you know,” he says under his breath. I barely hear it.

I stop anyway.

I’m so torn apart that I don’t know what to do for the very first time in my life.

I want to run but I want to stay. I want to talk but I also want to be left alone.

I feel his hand on my shoulder and I pull away instantly.

I can’t be…g…homosexual. I’ve worked in the army half my life, almost always young men around me, older men… Nothing ever happened.

Can a man turn gay in the middle of his life?

“Major, I’m sorry if I spoke out of line, Sir.” He sounds like he means it. And that damn voice does things to me again… I want to tear my hair out.

One part of me is glad that I’m not impotent, but turning g…homos…whatever…

Awkward moments pass.

“Want a beer?” Something cold brushes my arm.

I finally turn and look at him. Beer sounds like a good idea.

He somehow looks as lost as I feel.

He hands me the beer and opens one himself, greedily starts to gulp it down. I find myself staring at his Adam’s apple as he swallows. Of course that doesn’t do my interested dick any good.

He stops drinking, grabs my arm and simply asks, “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

I’m totally taken aback by that question but he keeps staring at me, fingers tightening around my wrist almost painfully. This surely isn’t a conversation a superior officer should have with his newest recruit.

His eyes are…I don’t know…pleading?

This is so weird I just have to sit down.

I walk the few steps over towards the wall of the pit and fall to the ground, leaning my back against the wood.

He still looks at me with that question in his – yeah, I admit it to myself - beautiful eyes.

Peck slowly walks over, and I feel all mushy when he looks at me like that. God, I’ve barely know that kid for a week.

I sigh and finally answer, “I don’t know what you mean, Lieutenant.” I sip my beer, glad for the fact that it’s cold.

He slides tiredly down beside me, says nothing, shakes his head. His nose is bleeding. He stifles it with the back of his hand.

“Forget the question, Sir.” He sounds worn, like an old man.

We sit here for a very long time. I’ve never felt something like this with anybody. It’s not an awkward silence anymore. It’s like sitting here with a friend, sipping beer. I peer at him from time to time out of the corner of my eye. His eyes are closed and his hands wrap around his can tightly. A few knuckles bleeding.

My gut is drumming. My cock half hard, my balls aching. It finally dawns on me what he means by love at first sight. I sigh deeply. Gathering courage, I look at his groin from under almost closed lashes. I can’t really tell, but it looks like he isn’t faring any better than myself.

How do I get around this?

I don’t want to be gay.

I do like this new kid a lot, though. But he looks like he could have a dozen people at his mercy, male or female. I’m just a middle aged soldier.

He suddenly turns and lifts the beer in a toast, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir. I…” and he bumps his can against mine, “If I may say so, Sir, I’m looking forward to that training camp, and you can call me Face, if you want to.”

He’s bold, but I can’t help a grin. I bump my can against his and swallow the reminder of mine down, “Thanks…ki…Face.” It fits.

Perfectly.

“If you…if you feel like you need to hit someone again, you have my number.” He pulls himself to his feet.

I shake my head. He’s barely twenty and can read a Major’s mind…my mind?

I look up at him. I don’t want to move. I don’t want to go home and face my girlfriend. I’m a total fuck up.

Face’s holding his hand out to me.

“We’ve to get up early, Sir,” he states, then adds, “I don’t bite.” And I get the feeling he wants to add ‘yet’ but shuts his mouth just in time.

I hesitate. How is it that I feel like a damn school boy when he’s looking at me?

I finally take his hand and let myself be pulled up. He’s got a really firm grasp but he lets go immediately.

“We’ve to get up early, Sir,” he states, then adds, “I don’t bite.” And I get the feeling he wants to add ‘yet’ but shuts his mouth just in time.

I hesitate. How is it that I feel like a damn school boy when he’s looking at me?

I finally take his hand and let myself be pulled up. He’s got a really firm grasp but he lets go immediately, steps away from me. It’s like he’s made a decision. A decision for both of us.

I only nod at him. I can’t speak.

He just smiles warmly, turns around and is out my sight within seconds.

I’m rooted to the spot for a while longer, staring after him. Mind blank.

++

I wake my girlfriend and manage to make love to her. She looks at me utterly surprised when I slide into her, fully erect, groaning. I close my eyes and start rocking, hard, fast, almost without mercy.

All I see is the kid. Slender, muscular body squirming beneath me, strong fingers grabbing my hair, that grin, those eyes, everything…for me.

And I come violently.

I roll off her instantly, catching my breath, no clue if she climaxed or not. My thoughts are whirling. I can’t get rid of the image of those ocean blue eyes, of the feeling of his groin pressing into mine, his voice, asking me if I believed in love at first sight.

“John?” The female voice hits me like a hammer.

“Shit.” I jump out of bed, mumble, “I’m sorry,” over my shoulder and start to dress. It’s 0300 in the morning. We…I mean I have to be back at the base in two hours. I don’t care. I need to get out of here.

“What was that, John?” Her voice is like a dagger in my heart. I take several breaths, I’m no asshole and it’s not her fault.

I step over to her and rub her arms. “Listen, honey…” I can barely look at her.

“Let’s end this John,” she only states. “It was good in the beginning, but it’s,” she strokes my jaw, “it’s better we stop before it gets ugly.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper again, meaning it.

“I’ll come back for my things when you’re gone.” She kisses me briefly on the cheek, “I’ll sleep at my mother’s. Good bye, John.” She takes her car keys and her purse and is out of the door before I can say anything.

++++

_Four weeks later. Training Camp._

During the four weeks we were here at the training camp, I had been terribly afraid that I’d start to react to _every_ male like I reacted to Face, but, to my relief, nothing embarrassing happened.

So it’s just him. Only him. And it’s nerve wracking as we’re together almost 24/7.

He does nothing wrong. He follows my orders. He’s liked by the other two new recruits in the unit (I have to fight my own jealousy here! FUCK!). He’s a hell of a sniper, and he seems to be able to go on forever in the training sessions; running, shooting, fighting, sit ups, push ups, the whole lot.

It’s those little grins, the batting of his long lashes for a heart beat too long, the brushes of his fingers on my arm or back, accidentally (or not), the tone of his voice. But all that happens so fast, in such secrecy, that I think it’s my own imagination coming up with the idea that he’s flirting with me.

I’m so tense, I almost don’t know how to hide it anymore.

Today's order is for the leader of the unit to fight his three recruits at once. No weapons, just bare hands. Normally I don’t have a problem with things like that. I can stand my ground against three men easily. Right now I’m afraid my body might betray me and screw the whole situation.

“Keep calm, Boss,” I hear a whisper in my ear and snap my head around. Face actually _winks_ at me, pulling his gloves on. I’m not sure if he meant it or if it was sarcasm. But his voice sounds different when he’s using his biting words for people he doesn’t like.

I look at him sharply, trying to pull rank. I’m glad I’m so much taller than him. He’s holding my gaze.

Seconds.

Long.

Too long.

Just when it might raise suspicion, he bends down and ties his shoelaces.

I’m beginning to get the impression he knows much more about this ‘gay’ stuff than he lets on. I sigh in frustration.

Only five minutes until the fight. We are the first unit in. There’s already a big crowd around the pit. I feel like throwing up.

The fight is nothing like the fight we had at home. It’s real. Demanding. Brutal. Because those are the rules. The enemies won’t have mercy with us. We have to use our full strength, all tricks are allowed. I’ve trained my boys effectively. I’m sure of it. I know they won’t disappoint me. I’ll have to fight for my pride. If one of them betters me in the end, I’ll never live it down!  
They team up against me very well, and attack all at once. I manage to block their blows and retaliate. The first one is on the ground after a few moments. Face and the other man give me as good as they get. I think I hear a rib crack and someone is definitely going to get a black eye. Not sure who. They try to tackle me together but my elbow hits right into one stomach. I hear a grunt and number two is down.

Of course it’s Face and me now. He _IS_ the best of the three. I give him a once over. His lip is split, and he’s the one with the black eye.

I’m high on adrenaline and so is he. I hear the crowd cheer. He grins at me and winks. I grin back.

An instant later we’re all tangled limbs and strength and pressure and gasps, blocked blows and kicks. He goes for my throat and tries to squeeze. The heel of my hand lands hard in his stomach. He stumbles backwards, doesn’t fall down. He bends and gasps, but all of a sudden I have his fist in my face and it cracks. I think he broke my nose. Little shit.

Blood’s running over my mouth but I see his next attack coming, know his fighting style by now. I manage to get my feet between his and he stumbles, but while he’s falling he grabs for my arms and pulls me down with him.

We roll in the sand, fighting for dominance. He’s unbelievably strong for such a young man. I don’t want to hit him again. He looks like hell already, his breath hot against my face, eyes blazing. I manage to grasp both his wrists, he bucks up and… _fuck_ I feel his hard on.

I turn him onto his front quickly, hands over his head. His legs are kicking and I can only get him to stop moving by briefly sitting on his thighs. I almost see stars when my damn erection brushes his ass and he bucks against it. I move up and put my knee on his thighs, and I know the instant he stops struggling and lies motionless beneath me, panting, letting me win.

I gasp for breath. I’ve never had to fight a recruit that hard. I won’t have to worry if he gets into hand to hand combat with the enemy.

I pray no one sees the bulge in my pants.

We’re dismissed immediately. They’ll tell us afterwards which the winning team is.

I’m up and out of the pit in a few fast strides. He’s right behind me.

Our other two team mates are off to the showers already, so it seems.

“Can I have a word with you?” I murmur, cleaning my nose with my t-shirt. It hurts like a bitch.

“Because I broke your nose, Sir?” he asks, sounding strange.

I shake my head.

He lifts his hand but lets it fall down again. “You should get looked at by the doc. Sorry ‘bout that.”

“It’s nothing. Sorry about the black eye.” He looks horrible and I cringe because the fact is, I’d done that to his handsome face.

“It’s nothing,” he repeats my words lowly. “You wanted a word, Sir?”

“Yes.” I open our tent, it’s empty and shrug, “they’re all at the pit…” I trail off and close the zipper of the entry. Not that that would bring much security but it would do for now. I take two bottles of water, toss him one, pour half of mine over my face and gulp the other half down. He does the same, shaking his head wildly. The droplets shower me from the longish strands of his locks.

“What’s up…Boss?” he asks hesitantly.

I sit down on the bench and pat the space beside me, my heart thumping in my throat. My whole body is aching, and I’m not sure if it’s from the fight or the suppressed arousal for four weeks.

He sits down slowly. Leaves a few inches between us.

“Do you mean it?” I ask in an unrecognisable voice.

He turns his head and looks at me sharply. I can see that he’s about to say, ‘Mean what?’ but the question dies before it’s asked. He must have seen in my eyes what I meant.

He studies the floor, hands combing through his messy hair, and he says, “Yes,” without hesitation. “Don’t you remember my question…when you…when you needed to get hit that time?”

“I do…all day long,” I answer slowly and sigh, swallowing before I continue, “…but I…I can’t…if you aren’t serious…it’s dangerous stuff as you know.” I stop, feeling unbelievably awkward and _knowing_ I walk an almost deadly line here, deadly for my career.

Face is staring at me. “I know that, Sir,” he says huskily, “for me too.”

“Drop the Sir, if you’re…” I turn my head and look back at him. “Jesus, Face, you could have dozens of… of…” I can’t find the right words. “Why me, your superior officer, of all people?”

“Well, when I first saw you …” He pauses and remembers, “No, make that when I first fought you …” Face turns his head again and smiles at me openly now, “…when I first f...felt you... I didn’t know you’d become my commanding officer.” He actually blushes. “I…it was just…” He’s actually lost for words, licking his split lip nervously, and I want to catch that tongue, hold it captive in my mouth.

I mirror the action, biting my lip. And like a really bad cliché, I feel hundreds of butterflies in my stomach.

“We can make it work, Si…J…John.” Face reaches out to caress my jaw. It’s like a jolt of electricity charging through my body, and I lean into the gentle touch. His eyes are…I want to drown in them. I feel like a teenager.

“It’s…it’s only you, you know…Temp…Templeton,” I stutter. “It’s like you turned me…” I have to look away. I’m no good at talking about this stuff. He bends and touches his parched lips against mine anyway, kissing the corner of my mouth.

“I know, Boss.” He takes my face in his strong hands, making me look at him. I completely forget about my throbbing nose. I’m trembling all over, not able to move at all. “I really fell in love with you at first sight,” he murmurs so close to my mouth that I can catch his every breath.

When he touches his lips to mine again, eyes open, searching for an answer, I’m finally able to move. I press one hand on top of his and slide the other through his thick, damp hair. We both sigh into the kiss and I open my mouth to his hesitantly exploring tongue, close my eyes and start to melt into my first and only male love.

Somewhere in the back of my mind the soldier in me listens for footsteps outside the tent, because DADT will be our ruin if we aren’t careful. I’m sure he does the same.

F I N 


End file.
